The Necromancer and the Witch
by ElauraGrave
Summary: The untold story of Penny Halliwell/Grams and The Necromancer/Armand. The "behind the scenes" of the episode "Necromancing the Stone" and (eventually) their story of when they both fell in love (1947, in my version) and their relationship spanning 7 months.
1. Chapter 1 - The Necromancer Returns

At first, his palms were sweating, nervous for the upcoming confrontation. If this meeting was anything like their last, he knew he'd end up banished to the spirit-world again, which he found unpleasant even though he was dead. The necromancer flinched as he remembered the spell Penny had thrown at him, the fire which consumed him;he knew it burned as intensely as her hatred for him.

"Which is only because her love for me still burns as strongly," he thought, calming his nerves. He wiped his palms and took on his regular confident demeanor. He reassured himself that she still loved him, and that she had to cover her love for him with a hatred twice as strong; the thought fed his enormous ego. "Which is one of things she secretly loves about me. A woman loves a man confident in himself."

He furrowed his brow in determination; it was time to set his plan into motion.

"Go," he ordered his lesser demon henchman. He hoped the charmed ones would kill the nitwit while it provided the necessary distraction. But, he couldn't fantasize about the Charmed ones taking Skreek off his hands, he needed to get going.

"10...9...8..." He began his countdown, his adrenaline surged. He focused on fading to somewhere outside her field of vision.

"3...2...1..."

He appeared about 10ft behind her, she was raising her hands into the crossed position which triggered her power. Every Halliwell had a trigger move; for some it was eye-flicks, some it was a mental focus point, and for others it was some type of hand gestures. He'd always thought Penny's was especially sexy.

"Oh no you don't," he thought. He raised his hand and she was frozen and pulled to him. He felt her tense instantly in his grip, she drew a sharp breath. "Surprise," he said softly. He tightened his grip and orbed back to his lair, but not before giving the two present Charmed one a smug grin of success.

They materialized in his lair, but Penny didn't miss a beat. She tore away from him and spun around. He braced himself for some consequence of her power, but it did not come. She seemed too stunned to act, her eyes were wide with...fear? Anger, anxiety, hatred...love? He couldn't be sure, her emotions were so mixed.

And he was now on the ground, thrown back by her telekinesis. He didn't wait further though, with a flick of his wrist her powers were frozen again, but he gave her free will of her body.

"Penny, Penny, Penny..." he said standing up, trying to soothe her. Still, she could hear the triumph in his voice. He stepped closer. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself. I want to make a truce with you." He closed the distance between them to a few inches, with her stumbling backwards at every step he took until she was against the wall with nowhere to go. "Just hear me out," he pleaded, grasping her arms.

"No!" she said, tearing away from his hold. "I will never trust you again." She pushed him backwards, jabbing and hitting him with each word, intensifying with each blow.

"You betrayed me to threaten my family, and you threaten them yet again. Never!" She raised her hand to strike his face, but he caught it. He was stronger than her, he threw her hand away and grasped her roughly this time by the arms.

"I do what i have to do! Even if it means..." he yelled, tapering away at the end. It was the fear in her eyes which made him stop. He enjoyed it, drank it in at first; but, the part of him that loved her dearly and deeply made him stop.

"No..." he whispered to himself, turning from her gaze.

"This is not the me i want her to know," he thought. He turned to her. "Sleep," he said, waving his hand in front of her face. His spell worked instantaneously; she went limp, falling into his arms, and he lay her down on the settee which they were now next to. He brushed her hair away from her face, and then turned away in frustration. Why must his emotions get in the way?! He turned back with a sigh and pulled the memory from her mind. She would be afraid and angry all over again when he woke her up again. But first he needed a moment to regroup his thoughts, his emotions.

He sat, lacing his fingers together in thought. He focused in on his goal, how it was easily in his grasp: he needed Penny to go through with the wiccaning summoning the strong spirits of the Halliwell line, the spirits which he would absorb and come to life-forever. For now he could not live without the spirits of others fueling him.

"And Penny," he added to his thoughts. "I can't live without Penny. Even if she doesn't want me to live she's going to make it happen, and she'll live with me."

He stood and approached her. He knelt down beside her, gazing at her closed eyes that he thought were so lovely, the mouth he thought was so perfect. He stroked her hair that she kept short, a rebellious style back in their time. He loved the rebel in her, and smiled a little remembering her fresh attitude. "Your spirit is strong, Penny," he said to her in her slumber, "Almost strong enough to sustain us both." His smile became sad as his gaze turned downward. "Almost." He strode away and waved his hand in the air. "Awaken," he commanded.

The spell did its job, Penny awoke in fright and sprung up.

"Don't worry, Penny, you're safe here." She immediately went to use her power. "Ah, ah, ah ah," he said, freezing her arms mid-cross. "You're well aware of my powers, Penny. I covet your spirit," He stepped towards her. "And any spirit i covet i can control."

"You son of a-"

"Ssssh!" he cut her off. "Of course you know, the more you fight me the more i know that you still love me." He lowered her arms from where they had been frozen, allowing her to once again take control of her body.

"Oh you're crazy," she deflected, backing up from him. "I hate you!" She exclaimed with enough poison in her tone he was sure the only reason he didn't die was because he was already, technically, dead.

"Yes," he said as a matter of factly. "But you only hate me because you once loved me." He had a slight vibrato in his speaking voice. Penny tried to ignore the fact that she noticed; that trait was one of his quirks which she had loved about him.

"After all," he continued, "we only hate those who've gotten close to us, don't we? Those who've gotten close enough to touch our hearts."

Penny felt her resolve begin to weaken. "You used me." His eyes dropped. Armond felt a pang of guilt and sadness. "You preyed on my affections just to get to my family"

"And for that i am truly, truly sorry," he said earnestly. "I was just trying to survive!" He honestly did feel sorry for his actions, he truly hated that he had to betray the woman he loved to sustain himself. He wished he could make her understand. "I never intended to fall in love with you either." He set his hands on her shoulders, but she turned from him.

"What do you want, Armond?"

He spun her around to face him, mere inches keeping them apart."The same thing that i wanted then: Life! With you! Think about it. Think about it, Penny! There's enough magic in the Halliwell line to resurrect us both! To have a second chance together! All you have to do is to summon the spirits of the matriarchs. I'll do the rest."

"No, no you'll never make me do that!" she said, tearing away from his grasp again. She was terrified of her family getting hurt. She didn't want him to touch her, all it did was bring back unwanted memories and feelings that she wished she could just forget.

"I can if i have to," he said, with a menacing look, though it was sadness in his voice. Still, Penny was afraid for her family.

"I'll tell my granddaughters, they will destroy you-ah!" She was cut off by a sharp pain in her head. She sensed it was him taking over her will. "Oh, you haven't changed one bit," she said with hatred.

"Isn't that why you loved me?" he said sensuously, taking a step towards her. She did not back away; he was right. Her pulse quickened and her fear relaxed. "Because i was exciting. Dangerous. Why your heart quickens when i'm near you. When i do this."

He took her face in his hands and drew her in for a kiss. He kissed her with all the passion of their youth, and she kissed back. In that moment, he was no longer the necromancer demon and she was no longer a charmed witch; they were the two people who had overcome all odds and differences and fallen in love. He pulled away and their eyes connected.

"You still love me, Penny. You know it and i know it. And you're going to help us both to live. Forever." He tuned in to his power over her and resumed his role of power-wielder. He loved power almost as much as he loved Penny. He felt it coursing through his body, knowing that it wasn't even at it's full potential like it was when he was completely alive.

She didn't want to make their spirits complete. She tried so hard to resist his will, but his power was to strong, she felt it willing her to do his bidding. He was in her head now. Yes, with his powers, but his words had gotten to her heart. Had gotten to her memories and feelings and brought them to the surface. Part of her wanted to just give into him completely, to summon the wiccaning and return from the land of the dead to live forever with him. To have a second chance at a happy life with someone who was her true love.

But, the other part of her hated him, hated him with a fire hot as a white flame. He threatened her family, not just the girls she had helped raise, but the women who had raised and inspired her.

And all these feelings didn't matter; he was in control of her. She would not be able to use her powers against him, nor would she be able to speak against him to alert her granddaughters; she would speak the words of the wiccaning.


	2. Chapter 2 - When Penny met Armand

_San Francisco, 1948 _

Seventeen year-old Penny Johnson watered the flowers on the front porch of what is known in present day as Halliwell Manor. Though she couldn't use her powers to do the work outside, she didn't mind; she liked flowers. She hummed a little tune while working, a slight smile playing on her lips. This caused the demon who was watching her to grin.

He was a powerful demon who went by the name Armand. He looked approximately eighteen or twenty years old, though his real age was certainly much older than that. He wore a sleeveless, cuttoff denim shirt over a skin-tight white teeshirt. His shirt was tucked into black pants, which rode high on the hips as was the fashion of the time. Like his shirt (and most of his wardrobe), the pants were tight; this went against the fashion of the time. But, the 1950s were on their way and he knew what styles they had in store; he had seen the future, which was why he was watching Penny so closely from across the street.

As a demon, he was known as The Necromancer. He was very powerful, and ruled in the underworld with a large following because of it. He could smoke-teleport, cast spells, manifest and corporealize should he need, and-most importantly-have dominion over the dead. He gained his power by absorbing the spirits of magical beings. He could control any spirit and make them do as he wished.

He knew he was powerful, he had every confidence in his reign and abilities-more than any normal man (or demon). But, he wanted something to make his power absolute, to make sure that beyond a shadow of a doubt no demon or witch would ever bother him. He had often taken the spirits of lesser demons, but he dared not mess with a demon greater than he; there were few who were greater, and he did not want to mess up the order of things. So, what was left to do but find a way using witches?

He had ventured around in the realm of the underworld until he found a demon who could call up premonitions. This demon gave him the help he needed-gave meaning "gave up" under duress from The Necromancer. After the demon brought Armand into his visions, his spirit was put to good use as absorbed power. But, while in the premonitions, Armand looked through many things, searching for anything that would help him towards greatness. He saw many gatherings of witches in the future-birthday parties, marriages, and run-of-the-mill Sunday outings-but, one instance caught his attention over all the others: a wiccaning in the line descended from Melinda Warren.

He had heard of the line of witches descended from Melinda Warren, they were said to be some of the strongest witches ever to come into powers. The youngest descendent, Penelope, was to have a baby in two years and summon all the spirits of the family matriarchs to give her baby their blessing. All these spirits would be what he needed to rise to ultimate power.

She disappeared back into the house with her watering can.

"Tonight," he thought. "I'll make my move tonight."

It was a Friday and she usually went out on Friday nights while her parents took care of Wiccan business. Whenever she decided to go out, he would be ready.

...

Later that evening as dusk fell, The Necromancer saw a blonde carrying an odd shaped bag walk up to Penny's front door; he assumed it was whoever was fetching Penny for a night out. He cast a cloaking spell on himself so she would not be able to sense he was a demon. He turned to his left and walked down the street a ways until he heard the door to the manor open.

"Goodnight, mom! I'll be back late," Penny called back into the house. Armand walked a little further before crossing to their side of the street. He started walking in their direction, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Facing him, the blond was on left and Penny was on the right. Just as they were about to pass each other, Armand took a little step to his left, knocking his body into Penny gently enough to be an accident but with enough force to make her drop what she was carrying.

"Hey!" she protested. Armand quickly got to work.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to do that." He crouched down to help her pick up the bag that was almost identical to her friend's. He made sure their hands touched and that he caught her eye; their eyes locked. Armand could feel the sparks. "I must've misjudged my closeness, caught of guard by your radiant beauty," he said in a cheeky flirtation appropriate for a 1940's greaser. And, after all, he thought it was an appropriate compliment that she was worthy of. They rose at the same time, hands still touching.

"Oh no, it's fine, i'm sure it was my fault," she said with a blush, obviously thrown off guard by his advancement and his devilishly good looks; she felt the sparks.

Armand put his hands in his pockets and stepped towards her. "Believe me, it wasn't your fault, sweetheart," he said, giving a small grin. "So, where are you two lovely dames off to?" he asked. The blond spoke up:

"Can't you tell?" she snubbed, holding up her almost triangular bag towards him. As if that answered his question. Armand decided he didn't like her.

"Um, no, I guess not." Whatever the bags were, he didn't know; he had never seen any human carrying one before. He inwardly cursed himself for not knowing more about humans and their daily routine; he should have done more research.

"Oh, we're just going skating," Penny said as she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear. Rollerskating, of course! Armand knew about that, it was a human past-time. But, he had never seen a skates-bag before, which he now assumed was the purpose of the lumpy packs they carried. He tried to get his brain back on track.

"Well, since i have so rudely knocked your equipment out of your hands, why don't i treat you to the Malt Shop tomorrow night?" He bit his lip, pretending to be nervously waiting for an answer, which was half true; he needed her to say yes so he could pursue more interaction with her.

"Oh, i don't know..." she said. She gazed at the pavement, and Armand actually thought it was cute the way she dropped her eyes in embarrassment.

"Ah, please," he fake-pleaded. "Say 6 o'clock? I can just meet you there," he offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the little shack that occupied the end of the street.

She smiled at him, and there were those sparks again.

"Well..." He could see her going over it in her mind.

"I'm buying. Y'know you want to," he trailed off. He was really cracking a smile now, but mostly because he enjoyed the annoyed, pouting look of her friend, obviously jealous of the attention.

Penny drew in breath. "Okay!" she squeaked in agreement.

"Cool, cool," Armand said, flashing an even bigger grin. "Then i'll see you tomorrow, 6 o'clock." He clicked his tongue and pointed at her, then turned on his heal to saunter back into the night.

Penny tried to get some farewell out, but the words were catching in her throat. "Goodnight!" she finally called after him, hoping he didn't notice the delay. Armand just chuckled and turned his head back to her without halting his gait. He raised his hand in farewell and pocketed his hands in his denim cuttoff; he was victorious in the first steps of his plan.

Armand lay stretched out on his bed with his fingers laced together behind his head. He sighed with contentment, reveling in his easily obtained success. He let his thoughts wander, replaying the events of the day. He laughed as he remembered the pout Penny's friend had worn as he ignored her.

"Even if i was really going for the earth-girls, i wouldn't go for her. She's a waif, especially compared to Penny..." He remembered Penny's brown hair in a high ponytail bob on her head, the pink and blue pinstripe pants she wore, high-waisted and tight, hitting right at her tiny waist to accentuate her great hips. Her blue blouse with a sailor-style collar, tied at the waist, unbuttoned just enough to get a peek at her cleavage. Her great smile, eyes, legs, hips...

"...ass," he added to his thoughts. Then he bolted, sitting up.

"Wait..." he said out loud. Why was he focusing so much on Penny? She was just a tool he was using to get what he wanted. Then he thought with reassurance, "It's fine." There was nothing wrong admiring her figure. But, then what was this extra feeling that came along with his admiration?

"Nothing, it's stupid," he said aloud again to the empty room. She was cute that was all. And there were plenty of hott she-demons here in the underworld to look at and get his mind off of her, ones that were more attractive...except he couldn't think of any female he actually considered more attractive than Penelope Halliwell.

"Aaaaargh!" He gave a yell and threw a candelabra across the room in anger, causing it to break into several pieces. He was being distracted; he wanted to keep his eye on the prize, the end-goal.

He heard footsteps approaching.

"Everything alright, sir?" asked his servant.

"Yes, fine," Armand said. This lesser demon had once tried to steal from the necromancer, so he had enslaved and sentenced the fool to an eternity of servitude in punishment for what he'd done. The demon moved to take care of the broken candelabra. "No, leave it. Leave it!" He caused his servant to jump, startled at the outburst. "Get it later, I just want to be alone," he mumbled.

The demon gave a bow and left, and Armand flopped back down on the bed. He gave a great sigh. He spoke to himself, in his thoughts, "I am The Necromancer. I absorb spirits. I am evil. Penny-_Penelope_-is good. I need to befriend her and stay in her life so she can marry that fool who becomes her husband, Allen."

Allen. Allen Halliwell. The father to the next witch in the Warren line, the one who gets to be the lucky man, the one who gets to swoop in, make his move, and take Penny-legs and all-for his own.

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!" he yelled, releasing a surge of energy. The mirror across from him shattered from his outburst. He heard footsteps approaching and he gave a sigh, lowering his head to rest in his hands.

"Sir, are you sure there is nothing i can help you with?" the demon asked, fear in his eyes. The Necromancer gave a scoff.

"No. Really. Go." he ordered. The demon turned to leave. "Actually, no, wait. There *is* something you can help me with..." The servant turned back towards him as he raised his hand to point.

"Body from spirit, tear and rent. Take spirit from body, yet keep both present." He had cast the spell which separated a spirit from its body without sending the ghost into the spirit realm.

The demon's eyes widened in fear, realizing what had been done. "Master, wait! Noooo!" His screams disappeared as his spirit was absorbed by The Necromancer. Armand sighed with pleasure as the process ended, feeling rejuvenated, though the weakling didn't provide him with much strength. He jumped happily back onto his bead and relaced his fingers behind his bed.

"I am The Necromancer. Demons and warlocks and evil beings of all manner love me and bow to me. I am a demon with a great multitude of followers. I am a demon of strength. I am a demon who does NOT fall for witches."

He closed his eyes with resolution. When he reopened them he glanced to his left, where the still-functioning body lay. "Oops," he said. The spell didn't actually kill its victims, just severed the spirit. The body would remain functioning until something caused it to die. He decided to give it to one of the vampires who had gained his favor. A nice treat, it would keep the people loving him.

He closed his eyes to get some sleep. He had a dreamless sleep that night. Dreamless, except for someone walking away in the distance, someone with a high ponytail that was chopped short, bobbing as she walked away from him. ***

The next day, Penny's mother was suspicious as she watched her daughter sweep the kitchen floor. Penny was dancing. She knew her daughter to be a congenial, generally happy person. She didn't mind chores, but she didn't like them-and she certainly didn't dance over them.

"So," P (that's what she went by) started to inquire, "you going somewhere with Robin?"

"Nope," said Penny, continuing her dance.

"Then did you win a car?" asked her mother with a laugh. Penny shook her head with a giggle. "Did you spontaneously get a new power?"

"Nope nope nope!"

"Is it-"

"I'm just happy, Mom!" Penny cut her mother off, increasing her grin. Her mother looked at her, then gasped.

"You've met a boy!" She exclaimed with a sly grin.

Penny, halting her dance for the first time in ten minutes, turned on her heel to face her mother. "No!" she deflected, defending herself. The she thought. "Well..." she started, reforming her answer, "I sort of did. But i don't think that's why i'm happy!" she said.

"Ooooh!" her mother squealed. "What's his name, what's he like?" she badgered in that girl-talk sort of way.

"Um..." Penny had to think her answer through. Her mother fought demons, warlocks, and all sorts of dark magical creatures. She wasn't sure she'd approve of her dating someone who fit the "bad boy" profile to a T. Between the earring and the black pants, Penny thought she'd leave several details out. But, her girlishness still fueled her answer. She spoke with a quickened pace and a higher pitch. "I ran into him-literally-on the street. He felt bad, so he's treating me to the Malt Shack. He's tall, dark, and handsome. His name's Armand." She gave a little sigh.

"And does 'Armand' have a last name." Penny's mother asked with an edge of caution to her tone.

"Mom," Penny said, pleading. Penny's mother's heat sunk when she saw the look in Penny's eyes. P knew it was hard to not have a normal life, to have overprotective family constantly on your case, to never be able to fully live like other girls...

"You know, he's not taking you out because he feels bad-he thinks you're cute!"

Penny's expression changed instantly, forgetting the troubles of having powers and a family of wiccans. She blushed and giggled, "You really think so?" she asked, imagining the "what-ifs," what if Armand really did like her a little? What if the date lead to a relationship. If. What if he didn't mind that she had freaky powers. If.

After the giggling subsided from both her and her mother, Penny went back to her chore, deep in thought about the "what-ifs," and swept sans dancing.

emotions.***

***So ya, we've flashed back to start the story of how Grams and Armand met! I hope you like it! The next chapter is the date between the two, I thought it was fun posting about the Necromancer, a life-loving high-maintenance, expensive guy go on a regular date. I can just picture the guy that is usually all about Salisbury steak eating a burger in a little shop. Eh, he loves new life experiences anyway, and Penny is there with him ;) ***

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	3. Chapter 3 - Date with a Demon

**A Date With a Demon**

Armand looked in the mirror and combed back a strand of his jet-black hair. It was the last lock he needed to make that perfect, slicked hair that all the men wore.

"All the cool men," he added to his thoughts. How he loved life. He wanted to get everything he could out of it, to live it to its fullest potential: and what better way of getting the most out of life than being deemed "cool." He took one last glance is the mirror and then sat down on his bed. 5:45pm.

He was nervous.

"I'm not nervous," he reassured himself.

He was nervous.

He wondered what he and Penny would talk about. If anything, he was a confident guy, but he could only be smooth and womanize for so long; there would have to be real conversation at some point if he wanted to form a lasting, trusting relationship with her. He reminded himself that it was a "friends only" relationship, and that Allen would have to come into the picture at some point. But he really didn't want to think about Allen right now. It was _his_ time with Penny.

"Ugh, why do i even care?!" he asked himself. So he was crushing a little bit. Whatever. But why was he nervous? He had seduced women before, he just actually needed to stick with this one; so, what was the problem? He just tried not to think at all about anything. He wouldn't admit this to himself, but he was afraid of the answer to his question.

The clock turned 5:50pm, and he smoke-faded to the shadows behind the Malt Shop. He made his way inside and sat at one of the round stools lined up at the counter. Then his face became stony and sullen; he cared about this girl. He had to face the truth; he liked her, maybe even felt love for her. He wasn't even sure, as a demon, if he could feel love. He had heard of demons falling in love, but whenever he had seen couples, they were more like accomplices with a hungry lust for each other. And that was _not_ what he felt for Penny. Then he thought about how he had had his fair share of women, paid and consensual; many of his nights were not spent alone. But, a beautiful girl like Penny had probably had many _actual_ boyfriends. When it came to real relationships, he was the one who was green in that area.

"Something on your mind, son?" the kindly man behind the counter asked. Armand sensed that he was a good-natured and well-meant sort of person. He disliked him at once.

"No," he said blandly.

But, what the hell? No harm in speaking his mind. He didn't sense any demons or Warlocks around.

"Actually," he started up, "there's this girl. Just met her and i already like her. But i'm kinds green in the whole relationship thing. I asked her out to here, but, man, i don't know how this whole date thing works. What do i say? I mean i've had my fair share of dames before, but not much talking was done with them, if you know what i mean," he finished with a devilish grin.

"Ah, i see." said the man as he paused from wiping down the counters. "Well, she's the first you actually want to have something with, go on a real, proper date with; that means something. Means you respect her. You like her! Let me tell ya, kid, when you finally feel that way about a girl it means you found the one. Best keep her. Make a good relationship."

"Well i was sorta thinking maybe just a friend relationship, ya dig?"

"Oh i 'dig'," the barman said with a hearty chuckle. "The last woman i thought i'd date and make a 'friend' ended up my wife-hey now, don't look so terrified!"

But Armand did. He wasn't scared of many beings or things, but his face had not shown this much fear even when he had a run-in with the Crone.

"Look," continued the man, "just talk normal. Like you was talkin' to a friend. Be yourself. Start with small-talk. Talk about your family, what you do, your interests. And ask her lots of questions. Women love to gab!"

"Thanks," said Armand, extending the first honest gratitude he had felt in a very long time.

"Don't mention it!" the vendor said cordially. "Just go get 'er!" And with that he disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Be myself," Armand said to himself mantra-like. "Okay, i'm a demon. I take beings' spirits, essentially killing them. I have no family. I kill those who stand in my way. I have a following of evil supporters." He smacked his lips in worry. "Sounds like she'll really be into me." he thought with sarcasm. How could she ever love him, he thought with despair.

The bell on the door jingled, and he jolted upright to see who had entered. He practically fell off his chair standing for the lady who entered.

"Penny!" he said with elation.

She wore a floral dress, which was not quite knee length, giving just enough to tease yet be considered modest. It was spotted with pale pink roses on a beige background. Her hair was just past shoulder length and now hung down in perfectly sculpted curls. The short sleeves were puffed slightly, the collar was Peter Pan style-the kind that was rounded at the corners. Her shoes were heeled oxfords the same shade of pink as the roses that adorned her dress. He hoped his mouth was not agape; she looked stunning.

She approached him with a shy smile. "Hi," she said. Armand took one more moment to be awed by her beauty, then switched to his usual smooth demon self. Though, he was sure she had seen the dumbstruck look on his face.

"My my my," he started cooly, "you are a piece of work. Honest, you're beautiful, doll."

"Thank you," she said, dropping her gaze to her shoes as a blush came to her cheeks.

"Whad'ya say we order now and then go sit at a booth? More privacy for me and you than the counter." He leaned in with his last line: "More intimacy," he flirted.

"Ya, okay," she agreed.

"He sure is coming on strong," Penny thought to herself. But, she didn't think it was a bad thing. She liked it, actually, it was a change from what she was used to. She liked being pursued and courted as strongly as Armand was courting her now.

"Bartender, my good man," Armand called.

"Hey, Sal," greeted Penny as Sal approached.

"Ah, Sal," Armand said, continuing with flair, "this beautiful lady and i would like to order."

"My," said Sal, "you're a punctual guy, ordering before you're seated. You'll put my waitresses out of work!" he joked. "I like it, more time to just sit down and get to the talkin'. What'll it be?"

Armand gestured for Penny to order. "Ladies first," he said with a wink.

"I'll have a burger and a cola, and a strawberry malt for dessert, please."

"I'll have what she's having," Armand said, "but make the malt chocolate. The darker flavors suit me best."

Sal chuckled, not knowing the truth in what the demon said. "Coming right up!"

Armand ushered Penny to the corner booth, the farthest away from the other couples and customers that dotted the little restaurant. Armand was happy with the venue; not too busy and not too abandoned. There were two elderly gentlemen and two girls sitting at the counter, an empty seat between the two pairs and four unoccupied stools on the left side where Armand had sat. Two of the six round tables were filled with yacking kids, and two of the five booths housed couples.

Armand snapped back into reality and gesturing to Penny, allowing her to sit first, like a gentleman. Armand felt embarrassed that he was surveying all the people, he was on earth and didn't have to worry about the evils of the underworld. There was no threat of an uprising, no enemies here, no demon that would attack solely to inflict harm and feed their sadism. Everyone's spirit here was generally good; he breathed in their essences, so youthful and vibrant, and wished he could take their spirits for his own. But, he'd settle for a burger.

"So, he said, starting off their conversation, "Penny is a cute name. But, besides that and the fact that you are as equally cute as your namesake, i don't know much about you. Oh, and that you have a blond friend."

"That's Robin," she said, "she's my best friend." She couldn't help but be a little jealous that he brought her up.

"Very sweet. I sense you're the alpha?" he teased. Her jealousy subsided.

"Ummm..." she said, smiling, trying to choose her words carefully. "You could say that. We're pretty evenly matched." she said with a giggle.

"I see."

"But she was the one who suggested we go skating."

"Yes, which i so rudely interrupted you from with my oafish clumsiness," he laughed.

"No, no not at all!" she assured. "That was good, or else i'd never have met you." Now she was the one doing the teasing. Armand smiled, this was the part of her he wanted to see. He sensed her spirit was strong-willed. With a hint of bull-headedness, which made him chuckle as he tried to imagine her going all fire-and-brimstone when she looked so sweet and delicate.

A middle aged waitress brought them their cokes. "Enjoy," she said, giving an experienced smile to the young couple. Penny smiled in thanks, but Armand never stopped looking at Penny and continued.

"Yes, you're right. And now here we are on this lovely date." He flashed a smile at her, and rather than averting her eyes bashfully she smiled back. Their eyes connected and there were those sparks again. Armand felt as if they nourished him as much as spirits.

"And i have been rude, i have not yet asked your last name," he said. He secretly enjoyed the humor of this facade, already knowing her last name.

"Johnson. Penelope Johnson. But like i told you, i go by Penny. I actually can't stand Penelope," she said crinkling her nose a little.

"Lucifer, is she cute," he swore to his thoughts.

"Well then, Penny it is," he said, taking a sip of the cola.

"What about you, mystery-man? You got a last name?" she asked jokingly.

Armand paused. He didn't think about that part of his human alias. He said the first name that came to mind. He glanced around for ideas. He looked out the window.

"Knight." _Wow, really?_ he thought to himself. "Armand Knight. It's not exactly exotic. But it's a last name."

"No, it's lovely!"

"You're lovely."

Penny laughed.

Their burgers arrived. "And extra fries on the house," said the waitress.

"Thanks!" said Penny. "Wow, that's generous."

Armand's instincts went up. No one was generous in the underworld without their own personal agenda. But he reminded himself again that he was in the human world, where the natural niceness of people always made him scoff at them as fools.

"So," he said between bites, "you live around here?" Again, he was amused with the humor in their conversation.

"Actually ya," she said, "a few houses up from where we met."

"You mean that large manor?"

"I wouldn't call it large, but yes."

"A beautiful home for a beautiful girl. Really , what a pad!"

"Thank you."

"I bet everyone is jealous."

"I don't think so, though birthday parties are really fun."

"I bet! And when is your birthday so that i may celebrate it and experience this "not large" manor?"

"June 23."

Armand did an over-acted, theatrical gasp, which caused Penny to laugh. "And here it is June 26 and i've missed it? How terrible of me! Happy birthday!" He gave a slight yet dramatic bow.

"Why thank you," she said going along with his theatrical manner, though a blush still crept to her cheeks.

They had finished their burgers, picking at the heap of fries that were left. The waitress came and cleared the plates away but left the basket of fries. "I'll bring the malts right out," she said cheerfully. Armand gave her a nod.

"So, how old are you?" Armand asked. It made Penny feel a little uncomfortable, but she answered and hoped he wasn't older than her by a margin of considerable creepiness.

"Seventeen. And you?"

"Nineteen," he lied. It was a stretch, he looked about 22. Penny felt relief wash over her. Armand sensed a silence as they continued to dip fries in ketchup.

"So, what do your parents, who've blessed you with these killer looks, do?" he asked, knowing the answer and hoping for conversation. He could see the nervousness in Penny's eyes though her face wore a mask of nonchalance. Though she had the answer to this particular question rehearsed and preplanned, it always brought fear to her mind that their powers would be discovered, which brought the frightening visualization of them being carted away to some asylum or government science lab. But, she was saved from an answer as the malts arrived. Armand looked at the cherry-topped concoction with skepticism. He liked icecream, but it wasn't exactly his gourmet choice. He had never had a malt before, hell he'd never even heard of it until he started observing Penny. But, he was all about life, living it to its fullest, trying new things.

"Oh my word!" he exclaimed.

"What, what?!" asked Penny with concern.

"This is amazing!" he said with exhilaration. He tried to take a large gulp, but getting a large amount of the thick dessert through the little, plastic straw was near impossible.

Penny giggled. "What, never had a malt before?" she asked, joking.

"No, and this is amazing! Where has it been all my life?!" he said with a laugh and took another sip. Now Penny was laughing, too.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Ya. I've had icecream, but never this wonderful brew!" he flinched a little, knowing he accidentally slipped and used potion term. But, it went over Penny's head, which made him smile; he had her off her guard and relaxed.

"Well then, cheers," she said, raising her glass, "to a lovely evening and your first malt."

"Cheers," he echoed, clinking his glass with hers. They smiled at each other. It really was a lovely evening, Armand even forgot his mission for a while as they talked the night away. They discussed things they liked, didn't like, hobbies, what they enjoyed doing, and so on. Before they knew it, it was approaching 9pm.

"Wow, look at the time," Armand said referencing the wall-clock. "I better get you home before your mother has a cow.

"Okay," Penny said with a smile. Armand payed and they were out the door. They walked in a comfortable silence for a little while, until Penny broke the silence.

"I had a really nice time," she said.

"Me, too. I found out that i like two things tonight," he said, hoping she'd take the bait.

"What's the second thing?"

"For starters, i now know i like malts." Pause for effect. Lucifer, he loved how suave he could be. "And i found out i like you," he finished. He stopped and turned to face her and she to him; they were in front of the manor.

Red lights were going up in his head. He had her on the hook, he shouldn't reel her in. He needed to just hang out with her and find and introduce Allen, and in two years he would have what he needed, the spirits of the Warren line of witches; ultimate power. But, he wasn't thinking with the right head. He told himself there was nothing wrong with romancing her, she'd fall for Allen anyway, he'd seen the future. So, why not have some fun while he could? If he were honest with himself, he would see that his intentions were actually not so blackened, and he would hate himself for it. He wanted to have a real, respectful relationship with Penelope Johnson. Sure, his male, demonic urges were there, but the core of his intentions were pure. So, he covered them with the fun loving and life craving demon he was, afraid to be untrue to his true self.

"I believe we've arrived at your home, sweetheart," he said.

"I know," she answered.

They felt the sparks between each other. Electricity.

"Man, i could just lean in and kiss her, love to get my tongue on hers," the demon thought. But Armand spoke.

"May i have your number?" he asked. She told him and he repeated it. They were standing so close it was a wonder you didn't see an electric current flowing from one into the other. The tension was rising.

Armand picked up her hand and took it in both of his. It was so delicate and pretty, almost like a flower. "Until we meet again." He brought her hand to his mouth and gently laid his lips on her soft skin. Penny's heart fluttered and quickened, she could not keep the little smile away that now played on her lips. "Goodnight," he said, releasing her hand.

"Goodnight," she echoed. They stared for a moment longer not wanting to break eye contact. But, he took a step backward and she walked up to her front door. He watched her go, admiring the rustle of her dress in the silence of the night. Before entering, she turned and gave a little wave. The too-cool guy she had just went on a date with gave a nod. She disappeared across the threshold and the door shut behind her.

He spun around, facing the night. His true demon self took over and sent triumphant laughter into the night. He had done it. His cloaking spells had worked and he had made his way into Penelope Johnson's life. Whenever the wiccaning was called, he would be present, the "best friend" proud of the next little Warren witch. He would be inside the protection spells they would cast, not needing to break through therefore giving them a window of time through which they could destroy him. His plan was working. He couldn't wait to get back to the underworld and tell his followers, he would call a meeting and speak to them all, rallying their loyalty. Soon they would know, soon everyone would know, that the only demon powerful enough to pull the wool over the eyes of the Warren coven witches was The Necromancer.

But, a little voice inside his head told him to find away without getting close to Penny. To find a way to be more than the best friend. The little voice felt something: guilt.

Armand was in turmoil. He thought his inner turmoil would consume him. "No, i'm a demon. She may fall _into_ love with me, but she can never truly love me. I don't even know if i'm in love, i don't even think can't feel it. I'm evil and she's good, and that's that. Play the part. Walk the walk and talk the talk. But, if i have a heart, don't let it get involved. Evil. Demon. Monster. She doesn't deserve that. She deserves better. She doesn't deserve evil." Armand thought all this with a heavy spirit, he didn't think that any sort of relationship was possible with Penny. He honestly didn't think he could be good.

But, unbeknownst to him, all beings in this world are good and evil. The elders themselves even have a drop of darkness in them. Humans are naturally split between good and evil, with witches having more natural good in them and warlocks having more natural evil. Angels were the purest form of good but have a drop of darkness in their spirit. And, demons were the purest form of evil-but with a little drop of light. In some it was the more potent force, and though he didn't know it, Armand was one of them. He was evil, he was selfish and murderous, but he could feel true love. He could be good, he had light in him; he just needed Penny to bring it out of him.

Air Products Internal Use Only


	4. Chapter 4 - Girl-Talk

Penny let out an exasperated sigh.

"Do you think he'll call?" she asked, her face a mask of worry.

"For the tenth time," said Jeannette, her brunette friend who looked almost too put together with her perfectly composed outfits and immaculate hair, "he'll call!" She had laughed at Penny's constant inquiries the first five times or so, but now she was getting a little miffed.

Penny sighed in resignation. It was the third day, June 29, since she had gone on a date with Armand. She couldn't stop thinking about his laugh, resonant and deep. His eyes, so dark it seemed they could swallow you whole if you looked into them for too long. His bad-boy smile, smiling as if he was always up to something, as if he knew something she didn't...

"Helloooo, earth to Penny," said her friend Holly.

Penny and her two friends were all situated comfortably in the living room, listening to the radio and painting their nails. Now that school was out, they had plenty of time to enjoy lazily lounging about, something Penny was especially grateful for. She was always the busy one in their circle of friends, what with witches duties and whatnot, so she enjoyed the time she got to spend with her friends doing normal, girly things.

Penny realized Holly had gotten her attention because she was on what was probably the 14th coat of nail-polish on her right thumb.

"Oops! Guess i was just daydreaming," she said, a little embarrassed.

"Oh i wonder about what?" teased Holly with an impish grin.

Penny just swatted in Holly's direction like she was chasing off a fly and blew on her nails. She couldn't help but glance at the clock nervously. 4:30pm. Jeannette caught her stealing the look.

"Good heavens, i don't care how dreamy he is, you're spending time with the girls now, so stop worrying!"

"Easy for you to say, you've already got Jeff!" Penny retorted jokingly. Now it was Jeannette who was blushing.

"Well, even when we started dating i wasn't slipping off to la-la land every minute,"

Ooooh yes you were!" laughed Holly. Her carrot-top hair swayed with her laughter. "And you wouldn't stop talking about him!"

Holly pouted, "Penny told us about her beaux!"

"She barely even told us about her date!"

"Well ya, but-"

"Girls, girls, girls!" Penny cut them off, "It's okay! I'll pay more attention to you, no more boy on the brain. There." She mimed getting water out of her ear, tilting her head and tapping the skyward ear. "He's gone from my mind."

They all laughed, minding their wet nails.

"Actually, you didn't tell us enough, beyond his name and his supposed cuteness we don't know how the date went or what he's really like. Spill the beans!" ordered Jeannette.

Penny sighed. "Okay then, but you asked for it."

Penny spilled the beans, she talked about his bad-boy style, how he was tall, dark, and handsome, and all about the date. He was the first guy she really liked. The only thing she left out was a minute detail, she was sure it was nothing. She was young, she was sure her magical side was still jumpy and not developed enough to make any concrete judgments; Armand gave her a strange vibe, as if there was magic to him. Like she told herself (and not the girls), she was sure it was nothing. But, she couldn't help notice her instincts telling her something was up, something weird and possibly magic. But no, no, he couldn't be a warlock, he was too sweet. Too caring. He seemed genuine.

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She finished rattling off any and everything about him and their date as she could think of. When she stopped, she was looking into two stunned faces, who then burst into laughter.

"I don't think you've ever talked that fast!" exclaimed Holy between breaths.

"I didn't talk fast," Penny said a little defensively.

"Oh, yes you did!" pushed Jeannette. "Like faster than a road racer!" And with that their laughter increased.

"Guys, i did not..." Penny tried to defend herself, but their laughter was infectious. Soon she too was laughing uncontrollably; she had been talking what was probably 50 miles an hour. "Stop, you're going to make us ruin our nails!" burst out Penny, her sides starting to ache. Their laughter subsided, and they wiped the happy-tears away, minding their nails.

"Alright," began Holly, looking to Jeannette, mocking official airs, "we approve of this guy, your story seems solid. And you obviously like him. Your license to date him has been approved."

Penny tossed a throw-pillow playfully. "Well, i'm so glad i have your approval," she said sarcastically.

"Well, remember what happened the last time we didn't approve? That disaster when you dated-"

"Sh sh sh sh!" Penny cut off Jeannette. "Let's pretend that didn't happen. Like, forever."

"Fine," said, "Jeannette, "so long as we can have some focus on the girl-time here!"

"Ya i guess you're both right," she caved, "I'm too nervous. If he calls, he calls; if not, no loss. Whatever. I'm fine." Penny tried to fool herself.

The farce was proved false by the ring of the telephone. Penny moved as quick as lightning and practically knocked over the table getting to the phone.

"Hello?!"***

How's that for a cliff hanger? Did he call, did he not? Guess you'll just have to wait and see! Might be a while, I need to make time to write. I know I've been doing a lot of updating lately, sorry for that. Still getting the hang of the website. =) Thanks for your support!


	5. Chapter 5 - A Vanquishing

Penny waited for a reply with bated breath.

"Sorry, must have the wrong number," said the voice at the other end of the line.

"Oh," said Penny dejectedly, "It's fine, no prob-"

"Because this sounds like the voice of an angel, and I was trying to get ahold of Penelope Johnson. Though, I guess you could say they're one in the same." The voice had slipped into that low, seductive tone that Penny was familiar with.

"Armand!" she cried, trying to subdue her excitement. "I'm so glad you called!"

"Ya, me too," he said truthfully.

Penny tried to think of something to say, but her mind was going blank. A feeling of awkwardness began to wash over her.

"So...how are you?" she tried for conversation. Jeanette and Holly started to giggle. She waved her hand at them, motioning for them to shut up.

"Better now that I'm talking to you," he said.

"Ugh, why's he have to be so smooth all the time?" Penny thought, enjoying his advances but feeling inadequate.

"Actually it was a good morning. Went for a nice walk," he said

"...in the demon market to get some potions supplies," he added in his thoughts.

"I was wondering if you'd want to go for a picnic the day after tomorrow. I'd make the preparations; you wouldn't have to lift a finger." Penny could hear the smile in his voice.

"Just let me check with my mom to make sure she doesn't have any...family events planned." Penny knew her mom had been after a particularly devious demon recently and was planning a vanquishing soon. As much as Penny cared about her mother's work, she really hoped it didn't interfere with her picnic date.

"Sounds good, can I call you tomorrow?" Armand asked.

Jeanette and Holly we're making kissy faces at Penny now, causing her to stifle-most unsuccessfully-giggles.

"3pm would be perfect for me, you?"

"Anytime is perfect for me, as long as I'm talking to you," Armand said in quiet sincerity. Penny's giggles came to a halt, and she felt a deep sense of contentment, a feeling of happiness that had never felt so right before. She smiled serenely.

"You're so smooth," she said with a chuckle.

"I know," he agreed matter-of-factly, "and you're beautiful. I'll talk to you tomorrow, dollface."

"Talk to you tomorrow. Bye bye."

They listened to the silence between them for a moment longer and hung up. Penny's serenity was quickly interrupted by the loud and obnoxious "aaaaws" of her girlfriends.

"How cuuuuuute!" teased Jeanette.

"Adooorable!" squeaked Holly, reaching to pinch Penny's cheeks.

"Knock it off guys," Penny said, her ear-to-ear grin ruining her attempt to be serious.

"So, what'd he want?" asked Holly in anticipation.

Penny quickly explained the picnic and the possible conflict (sans Wiccan terminology); this just sent the girls into several more squeals of "aaaaws."

"Oh would you two shush already!" exclaimed Penny, laughing. She hurled a pillow at Holly, and thus ensued a pillow fight. The fight ended when raucous laughter prevented the three of them from being physically capable of doing anything else. Their laughter began to subside when Penny looked at her nails. "Oh no, I ruined my nails!" she said.

"Me too!" cried Jeannette.

"Me three!" cried Holly.

"We'll just have to do them over again," decided Penny. The girls looked at each other for a moment, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter once again.***

So, this chapter isn't so much about Armand and Penny, but a glimpse into the life of Penny the Teenage Witch. Not some of my better writing, I'll admit, but it was fun. I like Penny trying to balance her teenage life with her Wiccan life, especially the part with her barreling through the rubble just to get her phonecall. Enjoy! ;)

Penny was poised and ready, her mother stood ceremoniously behind the open Book of Shadows. Penny was trying to stay in a serious state of mind, but she couldn't help but be giddy with excitement; P had jumped through some hoops and made preparations to move the vanquishing a day early. They were after a demon who could steal and use the powers of witches, he could even take from a whole room of witches all at once. He already had many powers under his belt, they could not be sure of exactly which ones and how many. He had the ability to fade and traveled often. His original power, which was the downfall of many Wiccans, was the ability to sense, identify and steal Wiccan powers.

P had invited two of her witch friends over, they and Penny would all use their powers at the same time, attracting the demon; he would be drawn to so much energy in one place. Once he materialized her mother would perform the vanquish. This was a relatively powerful demon with a specific vanquishing spell, so they would have to be quick. But, the witches had the upper hand; they knew he was coming.

Penny was getting nervous, they were waiting on the second witch and the clock was winding down; she was going to miss her phone-call.

"Mom, is she coming?" Penny asked, trying to subdue the urgency in her voice.

"Look, Jen's a busy woman, she'll get here when she gets here," P said with a tone of finality, so Penny didn't push the issue further. The other witch, who Penny had never seen in her life, spoke up.

"Ya, she's no housewife, more like an 'office-wife.' Well, 'office-girlfriend.' That guy should really propose to her," the witch speculated, directing her comment towards P.

"He shooould, but he won't," said P, "He's intimidated by her."

"*I'm* intimidated by her," chuckled P, sending them into a giggling fit.

It didn't bother Penny so much as fascinate her; she sometimes forgot her mother had her own life outside of motherhood. She had friends Penny had never met, she galavanted around killing demons on more escapades than Penny was sure she would tell her daughter about, and Penny reminded herself that the same insecurities and issues she herself had with her magic and life now, her mother has once had as well.

Penny started pacing as the clock ticked away.

12pm

12:30

1pm

2pm

2:30

Penny was about to tell her mother she was going to leave and await her call when a sound like shimmering and a bright light infiltrated the room; orbing.

"Sorry I'm late, ladies. Trying to survive in a world run by men makes you late." Jen had her hair curled and styled in a perfect way even Jeannette could never achieve. She wore a pant suit for women accompanied by the previously discussed leather briefcase.

"It's fine, let's hop to it!" said P brightly. "Okay, the game plan: all of us use our powers on whatever. Penny, just float something around the room, I'll decelerate that spider in the corner, Belle-"

*"Ah, that's her name," thought Penny,

"-you can-carefully, please-use some energy blasts, and Jen, use you're psychic energy. We'll try to keep our thoughts clean," said P with an impish wink.

*"Great, psychic abilities," thought Penny. She was embarrassed that Jen would see how thoughts of Armand were the only thing on her mind.

P continued. "Once he gets here, hit him with some electricity, Belle. I'll decelerate him, and Jen, you perform the vanquish. Penny, you've got our back," then P was in mother mode, "be careful," she said insistently. Penny may have helped before, but she was green in comparison.

"What if he doesn't show?" asked Penny.

"Oh, he will," said P, "There's going to be a lot of Wiccan energy here, he won't be able to resist.

Thoughts of Armand began to drift away as nervousness floated in to replace them.

"Let's do it," said Jen.

Penny could see how Jen was, in a male-dominate world, a woman of power. She was so commanding, so confident. In her occasional visits to the manor, Penny saw the way she held herself, spoke and acted with such self-assurance and certainty. She found it interesting that Belle, who seemed like a carefree, congenial person, was the one who could shoot powerful beams of electricity or fire and more in blasts quicker than the blink of an eye.

"Ready..." prepped P, "go!"

Penny looked for something random in the room to flick around. She focused in on a piece of crumpled paper in the corner and made it levitate.

"Don't think of Armand, Don't think or Armand..." she thought. She tried to focus all her energy on the paper ball, and floated it around the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see little bursts of flame coming from Belles palms.

"Be prepared," warned Jen.

Suddenly another form orbed into their midst. As quick as she could, P decelerated him and Belle hit him with a lightning bolt. Penny's heart leapt in her chest as he flew back and crashed against the wall. But, he quickly got up and made a dash for Penny.

P didn't miss a beat though and used her power, he moved so slow he was practically frozen.

"Hurry, Jen!" cried P. Jen spoke a short phrase of Latin and prepped a fireball that would vanquish him, she aimed and fired.

Penny wasn't sure what happened next, there was a blinding light. The spell should've hit him, he should be gone, turned into smoke. But, Penny was lying on the ground, her nerves on fire, twitching and unable to function, unable to comprehend her surroundings.

"You missed me," he scoffed. He have an evil chuckle. "'Resistance.' One of the more useful powers that I...acquired, shall we say."

He had broken out of P's hold and the line of fire just before the blast had hit him, and let out a burst of electric energy into the room. The Book of Shadows and it's podium lay toppled on the ground. The window* had been smashed out. Nothing was on fire, but some beams from the ceiling crashed to the floor and the stairwell's ceiling had collapsed in.

"Stole," sputtered out Jen as she lay with the remnants of electricity still coursing through her body. "You stole them."

"Yes, well, I guess I did." He walked over to Belle. "I can just get rid of you, your type of power is the reason you're all on your asses; your little plan failed."

Penny needed to do something; she was running out of time and needed to act fast.

"So, I might as well dispose of you now," he said, raising his hand.

Penny didn't think twice and willed every cell in her body to produce magic. She felt it overcome the electricity and surge forward as she flicked her fingers, hurling a chair at the demon. It hit it's mark, he crumpled to the ground, having been too cocky to beware of the young yet powerful witch with telekinesis.

Jen forced out the words of the vanquish, letting the fireball fly. He leapt up and attempted to raise a hand and strike with magic, but in vain. Her spell hit strong and true, and he disintegrated in a poof of flame and smoke. The women lay motionless for a few moments more, trying to recover from their racing hearts. A unanimous groan emitted from them as they began to move their bodies again. One by one they sat up.

"I'll get started on a recovery potion," muttered Jen.

"Penny," began Belle; Penny could hear the gravitas in her voice. "You saved my life-*our* lives; thank you."

P scootched over to her, her muscles still preventing fluid motion because of the pain, and put her arm around Penny.

"That was some quick thinking you did there, that was strength. I'm so proud of you." P kissed her daughter's forehead.

Penny was still on an adrenaline high and too relieved, still too on-edge, to fully appreciate the thanks and admiration of adult witches. She managed a smile and then tried to even her breathing. The clock struck 3.

Her breath caught in her throat; "The phone-call!" She dashed to the stairs as fast as her muscles would let her. Her "dash" was more of a stumble, she was still coming off her electric charge.

The phone rang it's first ring. Her heart began to race, but not from an electric blast this time; the stairs were blocked from the ceiling's rubble. Her instincts called upon her powers and she sent a blast of telekinetic energy into the blockade.

A second ring.

The path was clear enough to navigate. She willed her legs to move and headed down the stairs, dodging wood, coughing from the dust cloud.

A third ring

She leapt over the mortar and loose chunks of ceiling that adorned the floor.

She reached the phone, milliseconds before it finished its fourth and final ring. She frantically answered the phone, attempting to mask her voice with a cheery tone. "Hello?" she said, decibels away from a shout.

"Hello, beautiful," Armand greeted.

"Hi," she replied. She was out of breath and tried to gulp air away from the receiver. "How are you?"

"As always, I'm better now that I'm talking to you. And yourself?"

"Can't complain, just your average day here." 'It's not a complete lie,' she thought. It really was just your average day for witches. She *could* complain, she supposed, but not about anything too serious; they were all alive and the job was done.

"So, about that picnic...?" he inquired.

"It's a go for tomorrow," she said happily. Her adrenaline was replaced by butterflies in her stomach.

"Great, I'm so glad!" he cried, elated, letting down his "cool guy" guise for a moment. He cleared his throat, "I mean, ya, cool. Let's meet at the malt shop."

"Okay," she agreed. She was getting breathless, already visualizing their time together. Maybe it was just from the battle. Most likely both.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow. Noon at the Malt Shop."

"Ya, see you tomorrow." He hung up and she was smiling; she hoped he was too as she hung up the receiver.

"So," came a voice from behind her. Jen entered the room. "Who is this 'Armand?'"

"Reading my thoughts now?" Penny asked.

"Are you kidding?" said Jen, "Your thoughts were practically shouting his name upstairs.

Penny turned redder than a tomato and shuffled around, not knowing what to say. Her embarrassment was closer to mortification.

"Boyfriend?" Jen asked.

"No, we're just dating," Penny said with a little sadness.

"Don't sound so glum," said Jen, "you have to start somewhere.

"Thanks," said Penny with a little smile. Then, the Heavens were rent open by a sound worthy of breaking the sound barrier:

"PENELOPE!" shouted her mother in fury.

Penny quickly rounded the corner to the stairway. Penny looked; in her franticness to get to the phone, her blast had sent wooden beams into the walls at speeds clocking faster than any car on the road. Beams were sticking out of the stairway walls at odd angles, and had even been blasted back up into the ceiling, looking like some abnormal stalactites. The wall itself had been dented in. The damage she had done far surmounted the damage the demon had inflicted on the manor. She felt an arm slip around her shoulders as the mortar of the wall cracked and fell away.

"Guess you don't know your own strength, huh, kiddo?"

"Guess not," thought Penny through wide-eyed amazement. She braced herself for the angry force that waited upstairs for her, harsher than any demon or warlock alive when angry: her mother.


	6. Chapter 6

Alright friends, here's where it starts to get "steamy," and Armand finally gives in to his feelings for Penny.

I thought a Cadillac was very Necromancer. =P

Penny walked into the parking lot of the Malt Shop, dressed in her cutest pink blouse and high waisted shorts. Her face was framed by dangly earrings while her hair was up in a high bob, like when Armand had first spoken to her. He gazed at her, easily viewable from his black convertible; she looked smoking with her shirt tied up, leaving a strip of bare midriff. She wore heals, high ones, making her back side look even finer. He supposed he should've told her he owned and would bring a car, she was looking around, seeming a little confused.

He hoisted himself up to sit on the head of his seat. He was ready for today, he had delved into his human persona and created a life around it. He gave her a wave, enjoying the way her eyes lit up when she noticed him. The spot he had picked for them was picturesque, she would love it. The day provided the perfect weather for it, too; hot, but breezy and not humid. There was barely any clouds in the sky. He already knew the shady place under the trees where he would role out the picnic blanket; he hoped she liked it enough that they'd enjoy more than a picnic on that blanket.

"Omygod, you didn't tell me you had a car!" Penny exclaimed.

Armand experienced the familiar "melting," sensation he felt around her. His heart softened at her voice, her very presence.

"Not just _any_ car. This, oh beautiful one, is a custom 1942 Cadillac coupe de ville. Typical two door, but seats six with a back row." One of the custom choices he had made in his request for the car involved the seating. The front was a three-seater, including back seats only so the front had room to recline. He had expressed adamantly that the middle seat have ample foot space. What he didn't express was his reasoning; with the clutch out of the way, there was nothing to impede scootching (and other interactions) between passengers.

Penny traced her fingers over the hood of the car as she walked to the passenger side. God, it was so sensual, why'd she have to do that? He wondered if there was some magic to help him not get so excited.

Penny giggled and slid into her seat. "My friend's rich cousin had one like this. Cherry red."

"Black is more my style," he said, slipping on a pair of shades. He burned out of the parking lot; not the elegance he usually reveled in, but he enjoyed feeling "cool."

The spot he picked was on a hill, overlooking the town below and the ocean beyond that. There were trees all around, providing shade yet allowing light to filter through. Armand spread out the blanket and grabbed the picnic basket from the trunk.

"So, ma Cherie, we have for our beverage of the evening a nice chianti," he said, plopping down next to her, removing a bottle and two glasses from the basket he placed behind himself.

"Armand," she gasped, "you know we can't!"

"And yet," he said, pouring her glass, "we are."

She gave a low laugh and took her first sip, gazing over the glass at him and never breaking eye contact.

He chuckled and poured his glass. "For our first course, strawberry fields salad." He took out two small Tupperware containers and handed her a fork. They ate their salads in quiet happiness, enjoying the mix of the sweet fruit with the leafy greens. Occasionally making small-talk of the beauty around them.

The sun was not yet setting, but the horizon was starting to take on an orange hue. The clouds began to glisten with golden edges, and the breeze took on a crisper air.

"Now, for the main dish, baked chicken with a side of fried and breaded asparagus stalks."

"Sounds delicious," she said. "So, how did you pick this spot?" she asked between bites.

"I love to go on walks. I like to explore-you're not really living your life if you don't employ your curiosity-so, I discovered it. It was beautiful," he leaned in, closing the already small 3-ft gap between them, "so I thought of you."

Penny blushed, and took another sip of wine to clear her awkwardness.

"Armand," Penny said, reestablishing eye-contact, "you know, you know lots of things about _me_, but I don't know many things about _you_." She said it with a lilt in her voice, trying and succeeding to tease.

Armand chuckled. "Well, doll, there really isn't much to know. I live here in San Francisco and I like a girl named Penny."

Penny smiled, but didn't let him dodge. "You know where I live, so where do you live?"

"Uuuuh..." he hadn't gotten this far, "Five minute drive from where we met." He had to think of something so she wouldn't dig deeper into where he lived. "Ya, not too far from your place. You can come over sometime."

Penny was a little caught off guard. That was a far step.

"Ya sure, that'd be nice. But you'd have to meet my mother."

"Oh ya of course." 'Shit,' he thought, 'not in my plan. Why's she so damn young?!'

"Speaking of my mother, what about your mother? Your parents? Are you out of school?"

Armand recited like he had rehearsed. "My parents kicked me out when I turned 18, they're not in my life anymore. I do phone sales for my uncle. It's cool, no college or nothing. I hope to go into business someday."

"Oh wow, I'm sorry," Penny said. Armand felt a little guilty for making her feel concerned. But he shook it off, embarrassed for his softness.

"Nah, I'm fine. It's fun, I'm enjoying life," he said, adding emphasis to "life," the way one adds emphasis to the name of a delicious food.

"Oh. Well, good for you then." Penny was nervous, but she mustered up her courage: "Would you like to come over for dinner next week?"

Armand's mind froze for a moment, mid-drink. What should he do? He couldn't go into the house of P Johnson, a powerful witch descended from Melinda Warren. And she wasn't just some high school dame, P was a witch with fully developed powers. Not that he was scared, of course. But, it was a risk.

And still, Penny was his-what? Not girlfriend. Not yet.

"No, not ever, it can't be like that," he told himself. Still, he was trapped, he couldn't say no.

"Ya, I'd like that." Boy, was he in trouble.

"Cool, we'll pick a day then." She smiled, her nerves subsiding.

As her nerves went down, Armand's rose. 'Don't do it,' he told himself.

"Penny...would you like to...go steady? You know...be my girlfriend?"

Penny couldn't hide the grin that spread across her face. She was sure it looked goofy and stupid, but she couldn't help it. "Yes," she said, "I was hoping you'd ask."

'No, man, stick to the plan, don't do this,' Armand told himself, insisting to keep distance between them, again.

"Because, Penny, you're the most special girl I've ever known. I've never felt this way about anyone."

He leaned in closer.

"I'm glad I met you,"

Penny leaned in closer, their faces almost touching, "Me too."

And with that, their faces met and they kissed. Their lips locked in one tender embrace. They didn't move, holding the magic for a moment. Then Armand brought his left hand up to caress her face, and he broke the seal, moving his lips in identical motion with hers. This lasted only for a few moments before matching smiles caused their lips to part. They both gave small laughs, bringing their foreheads together and closing their eyes to enjoy the serenity of the moment, enjoying the way the universe seemed perfect for a moment. Armand and Penny pulled apart and made eye contact for a moment. Armand had never felt like this before: without evil.

Penny tried to speak, "Armand, I-"

"Sssh," said Armand, placing a finger over her mouth. He traced her lips with his thumb. He took the hand that touched her rosy-pink mouth and slipped it behind her back, placing his lips on hers once again.

He rolled her on top of him, their kissing growing more insistent. She rested her hands on his chest, he placed his hands on her lower back. He bent his legs, which let her fit into the crevice of his hips better, their bodies like two puzzle pieces meant to be.

He began to move his hands over her, exploring her body, moving one into her soft hair as the other familiarized itself with the touch of her curves. He brought both his hands to her bare patch of midriff and tucked them ever so slightly under her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of both her back and her front. He traced little circles with his thumbs near her spine, and her breathing became a little heavier. He then moved his hands to slip under the waist of her shorts and ran them around the perimeter. She liked this, and brought her hands to weave them into his hair. She worked her fingers and pressed her mouth into his harder.

The gentleness of their kissing dissipated as Armand advanced his ardor. In one fluid move he rolled over onto her and switched positions, he now on top with Penny under him. He felt his urges rise, but she was too special a girl to go too far, to go too fast. He brought her arms above her head and laced his fingers with hers, pressing their palms together as their passion ensued. He broke his mouth from hers, but kept his lips working around to her neck, stopping to nibble on her ear. He sucked on her pulse point, careful not to work too hard and give her a hickey. He found a pleasure spot of hers as she let forth a little cry of satisfaction. He moved his hands, carefully keeping contact the whole way, down to her breasts, placing them on them over her shirt. Mindfully being gentle, he applied some pressure, giving a gentle squeeze. His routine of physical seduction began; his hands applied slight pressure as he returned his lips to hers. He began applying and releasing pressure, gradually segwaying his pattern into circles. His hands and lips kept in tempo, and she arched her back in elation. He was pleased as she began to move her hips back and forth, bringing them up to his. His hands worked and she moaned, and he couldn't contain himself any longer. He brought his hands away from her chest and explored her whole body, reaching all her crevices and memorizing every pleasure spot. It took all he had to keep her clothes on, to respect her and stay atop the material. She began to make more noise in rhythm with their hips as he returned her sways, both their hands grasping, both their lips sucking, his mouth moving between her mouth and her neck.

Their passion continued for a while until they reached a pause and Armand wrapped his arms completely around her, behind her neck and back. He held her, never wanting to let go, never wanting to return to his world. He didn't want her to be a witch, he didn't want himself to be a demon. He didn't want to give her away to someone else. He just wanted this moment to last forever, holding each other on a picnic blanket in the shade of trees, overlooking brick-red rooftops and the ocean stretching into oblivion.

But, he knew he would have to return to the underworld, he would have to eventually meet her mother and create more lies. He would eventually return to the power crazed and power hungry being he was. He would do evil, and he knew he would like it. He only ever hated himself when he was with her, and he knew it, bringing only more self loathing.

But, for now, he was with her. He was holding the girl he loved, if that's what a demon could feel. Nothing could bother them, he didn't have to worry about anyone or anything bothering them. He just lay there, holding her in a sensuous cloud of contentment, burying his face in her hair. Waiting until one of them moved or spoke.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry it's taking a while, busy bee!

So, Armand has given into his feelings for Penny-and he's furious! This isn't how a demon should act and feel! He keeps trying to find in his mind a way to have both Penny and his goal:ultimate power via wiccaning. But, he can't find it. So, here we are, we delve into the dark magic community a bit. Forgive me if it isn't super edited. Enjoy!

Pronunciation of names:

Yahr-goh - Yargo

Flay-roh - Flaro

Tracks - Trax

Wihn-duh - Winda

Ah-lee-see-ah - Allysia

"Noooooo!" Armand screamed. He was in his manor, tearing through a room and breaking vases and coffee tables. He snatched a throw pillow off the settee and rent it in two, sending downy feathers to rain all over like summer snow. "That wasn't the plan. Keep it together!"

He kicked an already-toppled chair with his last syllable. He was furious with himself, with his weak emotions. He was supposed to dazzle and then befriend Penny, then befriend and introduce Allen. Instead, he had taken Penny for his own and engaged in a relationship with her. He couldn't believe how casual it was, how right it felt, to drop her off in front of her house, giving a parting kiss before she hopped out of his car. He couldn't help but feel like he used her on the hill, and at this he threw whatever was closest. But he had restrained himself, hadn't he? He didn't go far.

Guilt.

"You fool!" he cried! Upset at the weak _human_ emotion he had fallen victim to, he went on another rampage, smashing everything in his path. He wouldn't normally feel guilt about a situation like this. He needed to do something about this. He was losing himself. He was a demon, wasn't he? A powerful demon, a god to his followers. He did what he wanted. He took orders from no one. He was above this puny witch, he was above feeling sorry for her in her teenage years, and he was above the emotion he was succumbing too.

"Yargoooooooooo!" he yelled for his servant (well, he told Yargo he was an "assistant," but Yargo accepted duties as a servant). He heard feet running to the room, and he didn't even turn to address the being he thought equal to sputum. "Yargo, tell Flaro, Trax, Winda, and Allysia to meet me at the human restaurant we love so much. 9pm. Tell them it's a summary and report of my progress. Tell Allysia I'm _extra_ excited to see her."

The demon didn't even say "yes, sir;" his feet pattered away as he got set straight to his task. Armand turned, inhaling an aura of power; he set his demeanor to the power-abusing, _evil_ demon he was before he met Penny-the demon he _still_ was.

He raised his hands and cast a spell to put the room back together. He enjoyed the power radiating from him as vases reassembled and chairs repositioned themselves. He was glad to see his comrades, he needed a night out to remind him of who he was. He needed a night out to remind him of _what_ he was.

Les Yeux de Nuit. "The Eyes of the Night." The Chicago restaurant was a hotspot for dark witches, demons, warlocks, and other dark ilk to meet. It was expensive, to Armand's liking, and the place was dimly lit. It was on a back street, tucked between tell buildings and alleyways. Armand was glad to have traded the adolescent garb he had been wearing for the dark, forest-green button-up and dress pants he now wore. Gucci shoes, real Italian leather.

He crossed the threshold and spotted his party immediately, they were at their usual table in the back-most corner. He smiled wickedly, approached, and slapped Flaro and Trax on the backs in greeting upon arrival. He kissed Winda on the cheek and did the same for Allysia, lingering a moment longer to blow in her ear.

Flaro and Trax were both warlocks, both clever and lending ideas to many of Armand's schemes. Winda was a demon with Intangibility and Hyper Speed, a powerful ally. Though Allyssia was a relatively weak dark-witch, only possessing Liquification, she was useful to Armand in more than the business field. Yes, she used her molecules to torture and/or drown those Armand saw fit, but he kept her close because she was his call girl. She thought she was climbing the social ladder with him, but she was only for his pleasure-and of course for his few actual business means.

"So, Armand, we are eager to hear progress with the Warren girl," said Trax.

"Merlot, bottle," ordered Armand to the waiter who approached upon Armand's seating.

"Yes, do tell," said Winda, absentminded running her finger back and forth through the menu.

"We must have patience, friends." Armand inwardly cringed at the term; they were his tools, the closest things he had to friends, but he wouldn't call them that. "I have worked my way into her life, and am going to meet her family this coming week."

A small gasp went around the table.

"Armand, you don't mean to go into the house?"

"Have faith, friends." Armand broke the conversation as the wine glasses and bottle arrived. The waiter poured the drink and Armand enjoyed the aroma. "I and many others will be casting cloaking spells of all sorts, we'll go over every outcome; I will not let anything stand in the way of my plan!" Armand said in his authoritative tone. He was disappointed in their faith in him, but couldn't be too upset, as he was inadvertently afraid himself.

The meal continued on, they discussed escape tactics from the manor should problems arise, family conversation etiquette, and Penny and the Johnson family themselves.

When the second course was almost yet not quite wrapped up, Armand addressed Allysia: "Hey, want to get out of here?" Had she said no, he would've taken her anyway, but there was no chance of that. She was looking at him seductively over her glass, hinting at what was to come.

"Of course," she said.

"Gentlemen, Winda," 'I might group her in that category with all the leather and bulky rings she wears.' he added in his thoughts, "Allysia and I will be off. We've discussed everything that needs discussing, I'll get back to you with the date and time of my visit to the manor. I'm calling a conference open to all my followers and more one week from this coming Tuesday, the usual venue. Enjoy the night," he closed and walked out with Allysia on his arm after leaving some large bills on the table. "I know a great place," he said, referencing a bar he had not yet taken her to.

A la Armand's Cadillac, they pulled up to a bar that was smokey yet classy. Armand had fun at nightclubs, but he was in for a venue that would tantalize and provide a catalyst to the senses. This larger high-end building was perfect, with it's satin curtains, dark colors of champagne and black, and a live jazz band that kept the music low, slow, and suggestive.

They seated themselves at the bar, and Armand ordered right away. "I'll have the Moscow Mule, and perhaps a martini for the lady?"

"Usually, but I'll take a Gin Fizz for tonight," she said, staring into Armand's eyes.

"Well, meow then," he said.

"So," began Allysia, "this Penny is a pretty looking thing. She's fine. Have you 'claimed' her?"

"Only enough to keep her mine. To entice her and get her on the hook."

"Ah yes, well who couldn't be taken with you?" she teased.

"Ah yes," Armand said, only half joking while the other part remained cocky. She chuckled at this. Though she was inwardly jealous that it was some little (to their minds) girl who was allowed to be with Armand. All for the greater good of the cause, she told herself. The drinks arrived.

They chit-chatted about how foolish witches were, how the path of light was one for the feeble minded. They gossiped about the followers who were lesser demons, though Armand considered Allysia a lesser being herself. But, don't bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that. He did enjoy his darkness, getting back to the lifestyle and glitz he had started to slip from. Though, he didn't enjoy talking about Penny, her memory hurt too much, he didn't like all the feelings that came flooding back at the very mention of her name. He started to get excited again, staring at Allysia's near-exposes breasts and remembering the feel of Penny's, though shielded by clothing, under his hands. Allysia wore a knee-length red halter-top dress with an open, plunging neckline almost to her navel. Her hair was blond, pinned up with a single stick. They were both to the bottom of their second drinks by now.

"Shall we?" proposed Armand, motioning for the door.

"Yes, I think so," she said, suggestively licking and sucking some of her drink off her index finger before rising. Armand didn't take his eyes off her as he rose and placed bills on the counter. He took her on his arm, enjoying the fact that they were the best looking couple in the establishment.

When they got to the car, Armand didn't open her door.

"Screw it," he said, placing his right arm around her waist and his left hand on the car, fading back to his mansion.

They faded through smoke into his garage, and entered the house through the connecting door. The one of many rooms that they entered was colored in steel grays and blues, giving a dark yet soothing aura to the room. Armand was already copping a feel on her butt, and she was rubbing his back as he ushered them through another doorway. He had a second bedroom on the first floor just for this occasion, and he was proud of it. He slammed the door behind them and seized her to his mouth.

He kissed her in a ravenous manner, not like the sweet yet passionate kisses he shared with Penny, but she wasn't on his mind. He was in fact doing this to get her off his mind.

He threw her onto the bed and licked from the bottom of her dress's neckline up until he was sucking on her jawbone. He raised a hand and performed a silent spell to untie her dress.

Though he was in his mansion and he was indisposed with Allysia, in the back of his mind-still he'd never admit it-was a girl with a fiery spirit and big brown eyes.

He pronounces it proh-gress.

We can argue abt the technical definition of indisposed, but I have only ever heard it in context used when someone was "indisposed" with another human being. If you get my meaning. Maybe it's just a term I heard in college only.


	8. Chapter 8 - The Dinner, part 1

OMG so sorry it's been so long:

Okay, so Armand finally has to meet Penny's parents, a big deal because 1. P., Penny's mom, is possibly the most powerful witch in America, and 2. Hello he's meeting his girl's parents.

So, he as always has his own agenda but he really does want to impress them and make a good impression.

Enjoy! Sorry it's only part 1. xo

Armand had called Penny two days after their picnic, Monday, August 2. He felt rejuvenated after his tryst with Allysia, and more powerful after absorbing many spirits, human and fae.

They picked a date and time at which he would finally meet Penny's parents. He would come over for dinner at 5:30pm, August 5th, and he'd be ready for anything. He _was_ ready for anything.

Armand shuffled around, making sure his there weren't any last-minute wrinkles in his shirt and that his belt buckle was centered. He wore a pale blue button-up tucked into gray dress-pants, and carried a gift of a bouquet of pink roses. He had traded in his Guccis, thinking them to be too "loud" for the evening, for a pair of basic brown dress shoes, to which he matched his belt. He gave another sweep of his comb through his slick and put the cheeriest human smile he thought possible.

It was Thursday, August 5, and tonight was the night he would meet Penny's parents.

Earlier that day, he had five of his warlock followers perform cloaking spells of all sorts on him, hiding his nature, his manner, his evil, his power, his identity, his lies, and any other factor they thought might blow his cover. Armand had made sure they cast an air-tight spell to cover his lies, since he would be doing a lot of that seeing as his whole persona was a fake.

One of the most important spells they cast was an enchantment to block and ward off any spells that might be cast on him, such as a spell to reveal his identity or give any information away. Armand had enlisted the help of a demon who wasn't even a follower, but he promised the demon a favor and that seemed good enough for him.

Armand was nervous, anxious to be in the presence and home of such a powerful witch. But, all his true feelings were suppressed in the back of his mind, and he was ready to pursue his path towards power with full force as a demon. Still, in the back of his thoughts, his emotions for Penny started to come forth as he thought, "I hope she likes this shirt."

He walked towards the manor, ready to take action.

"Make them like me, work my way into their lives, gain their trust." He let his evil guard down for a moment, "I hope her mom likes me and doesn't think I'm too cocky," he thought in an almost child-like innocence.

He quickly shook it off, and reviewed all the possible exits.

He ascended the stairs and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

He thought, "I hope her mother likes the flowers."

"Oh hello, you must be Armand," said the dark haired woman who opened the door.

"Correct you are, m'am, and you must be Mrs. Johnson," he said.

"Please, call me P," said Penny's mother. "Come right on in," she invited.

As soon as Armand crossed the threshold, all demonic thoughts were down. He was as nervous as a school-boy on his first date; all he cared about at that moment was gaining Penny's parents' approval; not a single thought of demonic agenda crossed his mind.

He wiped his feet and entered the receiving room. He gulped nervously.

"The table is set, dear, I just need to get the chicken from the oven," P said as she ushered him into the kitchen. "Please, seat yourself. Pennyyy!" P called, "Armand is here, come down for dinner."

Already seated at the head of the table was Mr. Johnson; Armand thought that if he had a heart, he didn't now because he felt as if it had plummeted through the floor. He was _more_ than nervous in the presence of Penny's father. As he sat down he felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to prickle. He knew how to behave and he knew etiquette and manners-but what if they simply didn't _like _him?

"Hello, son. So, you like our Penny, huh?" asked Gordon Johnson.

'Ah shit, it's a trick, it's a trap,' thought Armand as he seated himself. "Very much so," he said.

"Well," said Gordon, "Good for you. We just have to see if it's good for her." he said.

Mr. Johnson's comment flooded Armand with sadness; he knew he wasn't good for Penny. A demon and a witch was an impossible match. But Gordon continued:

"But, you're welcome here, son. Our house is your house, I'm very glad to meet you." Gordon said this with honest cordiality and extended a hand to shake Armand's. This calmed Armand. A little.

"Thank you, sir. I'm glad to be here," he said, giving an honest smile.

By this point Penny had entered the room and P had set the chicken on the table, where it accompanied a dish of greenbeans and homemade fries.

"That looks wonderful, m'am," said Armand.

"Thank you, Armand," she thanked cheerfully, knowing that while it did look wonderful he was probably sucking up.

"Hey!" greeted Penny with a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi," said Armand, wondering if they were allowed to kiss in front of Penny's parents. What if they thought him too forward with his emotions, not respectful enough? He gave a nervous gulp.

"You know, Gordon, you haven't complimented my cooking yet and Armand has," teased P.

"I was simply waiting to taste and tell, but since you can't wait..." he said as he speared his fork into the chicken and stole a bite.

Hey!" said P, bopping him on the back of his head with a dish towel.

"Daaaad," fake-whined Penny with a giggle. Armand himself couldn't help but stifle a little chuckle; he relaxed.

All this homeyness, all the family love, it made Armand uncomfortable. He didn't know how to deal with it. And he maybe even longed for it.

"Alright, let's dig in. Pass your plates to Gordon so he can divvy out the chicken," said P.

They passed their plates, comfortable silence surrounding them until P broke it:

"So, Armand, how long have you been in the San Francisco area?"

"Since I was 18, so about a year now."

"Yes, Penny told us of your misfortune with your parents. I'm sorry, son," said Gordon.

Penny gave her father a look, telling him to get off the subject.

"Thank you, but it's fine, sir. My uncle took good care of me and is helping me get right into the business trade," Armand responded.

"That's a good way to look at it. And how kind of your uncle. So, you like your job?" asked P.

"Yes, yes I do. It makes good money, supports me and pays for my house. I only work over the phone. I sell cars to people, other dealers, and organize the employees and shipments from a management point."

"Ah, a man who can provide for himself. I like that. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders," observed Gordon.

'I like to think so,' thought Armand, thinking on his followers. "Thank you, sir," he said. He hoped the interrogation was over, he didn't want to create more information he'd have to memorize. Luckily Penny jumped in.

"So where's Junior?" asked Penny.

""Penny, call your brother by his name. And he's at a friend's house, they put together a little football game," scolded and informed Mrs. Johnson.

Armand hadn't given much thought to Gordon Jr., he supposed he should get to know him at some point as well.

"You a sports man, Armand?" asked Mr. Johnson.

"No, sir, but my uncle and I do bet at the racetrack," he said truthfully. He and some colleagues would occasionally cheat via spells and powers, but Armand loved the thrill of the competition too much to make it a regular habit. Still, his judgement had become pretty insightful and he often made a profit.

"Ah, I see, Goldengate tracks," said Gordon Sr., referencing the racetrack.

"That's the one," affirmed Armand.

"I'm not sure I approve of that gambling stuff," said P.

"Mom," said Penny, "You run and own bars for a living. How is betting at a racetrack any different than gambling with cards?" remarked Penny with a lighthearted scoff.

"I do suppose you're right," toasted P. They all laughed at this.

"Please pass the green-beans," asked P. Armand picked up the dish and handed it to Mrs. Johnson, their fingers brushing softly.

The contact with a demon sent shivers up P's spine, her well-seasoned senses firing up. She retained her composure and smiled sweetly, "Thank you, dear," she feigned.

"You're most welcome, Mrs.-I mean, P.," said Armand, faking the overly-polite slip of the tongue. He was sure they'd eat that up.

But, P was in witch-mode, not worried about being motherly at the moment. She dished some beans onto her plate and took a bite. "Oh, Gordon, may I talk to you in the kitchen please," she said nonchalantly, pretending to have simply forgotten something.

When they were both in the next room over P lowered voice. "Gordon, I'm getting a bad vibe about him."

"Look, I know he seems a little old but give him a chance, I'm sure he-"

"No, not about him dating Penny, I mean like a dark magic vibe."

"Oh," said Gordon. Now he, a human mortal, looked more worried than P.

"I'm going to perform a spell of revealing," said P decidedly.

"Now wait wait wait," said Gordon, "you can't go assuming every boy our daughter dates is a warlock. Are you sure you're not mixing your Wiccan and motherly instincts.

P gave him a look.

"Who, okay, just making sure you're not jumping to conclusions," he said, raising his hands in an act of surrender.

P thought about which spell she should use on him. A truth spell would be too much if she was wrong, so she would need a spell to detect and reveal his true nature. She picked her tool and quietly said the incantation. Her hands glowed gold and she felt energy project towards Armand. She waited. But, nothing happened. She gave a huff.

"I was wrong," she said in defeat.

Gordon chuckled and came up behind her, wrapping his arms lovingly around her. "You did what any caring mother with spell-casting powers would do. I sure wouldn't want our daughter dating a warlock."

"But I should trust them. Penny's a responsible girl," P said feeling guilt.

"Look," said Gordon, giving her a kiss on the cheek, "you're a good mother. You're fine, it's not like you read her mind or something. Now, let's get back out there before they get suspicious."

"Thanks," P said with a smile. "I just could've swore something was off about him..."

"Honeeey..." said Gordon in a tone that said "you're overprotective."

"Fine fine, you're right. I'm overreacting. But he does seem too old," she said jokingly at the end.

"C'mon," said Gordon giving her a playful pat on the butt before they walked back into the dining room.


End file.
